Some artists paint with colours. Oil on canvas. With brushes or chalks. Some artists even paint with melodies. With beats and voices. But not Taiba Akhuetie. Taiba paints with hair. She braids. Layers. Shapes. Combs. Creates bold hairstyles, clothes, accessories, furniture; wearable or usable art that tells the story of heritage, empowerment, and reclaiming identity.
The British artist who originally worked as a hairstylist grew up in Kingston, Surrey. Now she lives in London. But the centre, the heart of her creative journey, to be specific, is her studio in Hackney. A surreal, almost Dadaistic playground where her pieces from the past years were either brought to life or are now stored and collected: an umbrella whose sleek, warm brown surface shimmers in the lights, for example. An extravagant A-line-shaped gown made from blonde hair. A shower curtain consisting of seventy braids, each around four metres long. Chairs, mirrors, and even Nike Air Force Ones covered in a complex pattern of strands. Pieces that reinterpret Black hair traditions and techniques that were passed down from generation to generation.  
So, what started during the Covid lockdown has evolved into a striking career, including the solo exhibition We Need Some More Black In Hair in 2021, a Met Gala afterparty look for Tems, a customised handbag for Rihanna, and a captivating collaboration with the high fashion brand Fiorucci. And while Taiba is currently figuring out her next steps, we had the chance to talk with her over the phone.
It’s a typical grey London weather day when we take our time to chat about the power of Black hair and why it should be untamed. About football, armpits, and never wasting even the smallest piece of leftovers.
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Hi Taiba, what made you smile today?
A flower. No, a vegan sausage roll. A little treat for me on a Friday. That made me smile.
Does hair hold memory?
Yes, absolutely. Hair carries the history of the body. It grows from DNA. From scent, time, experience. When I work with hair, I’m handling living archives, kind of. It becomes a way of preserving emotions, memory, the physical and tactile.
When did you first realise that hair wasn’t only personal but also political?
I think I realised that from a very early age. Watching TV, black hair isn’t really shown; it isn’t really given the platform to be seen in a beautiful way as much as European hair. Also, where I grew up, in a very white middle-class area, I never ultimately felt comfortable in my skin. I was always desperate to fit in. I remember being jealous of the girls who had fringes, so I tried to cut my hair the way they did it because my braids and my hair texture were something that wasn’t represented. I didn’t find it beautiful.
Do you remember the moment you finally started to find your hair beautiful as well?
It took me a long time. I remember I’d watch TV and see Beyoncé, and I’d tell my mum, ‘I want that hair,’ and she’d be like, ‘Taiba, that’s not her real hair.´ I would never believe her. Now, I can embrace my natural hair more, and I can embrace getting braids more, because that doesn’t make me ugly, you know? I think there’s often this association with being seen as what you are, which is Black. Being associated with braids. That’s something I was kind of avoiding for a long time. But now, I also see more people embracing their natural hair, embracing braids and stuff. I think we’re trying to reclaim it rather than resist it, basically. To be honest, I actually prefer wearing braids over a wig because I’m such a low-maintenance person anyway. I’m quite lazy with my own hair.
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As a child, you learnt how to braid at your aunt’s house. Do you have a favourite hairstyle from back then?
There wasn’t a specific hairstyle, but maybe the way I learnt how to braid. Because the natural way is to do it over, to the front basically, so that you can see what you’re doing. But the way you can do it faster is by doing it under. It’s so simple, but it’s one of my favourite things that I learnt back then.
A few weeks ago, you posted this hairstyle inspired by the Trionda ball, the official match ball for the 2026 FIFA World Cup, on Instagram. How did you come up with that look?
I think what inspired me was the geometry of the ball and how the patterns meet the tech. I wanted to see how I could use those patterns in the texture of hair. I wanted to reimagine something global and masculine through my language, my craft, my symbolism as a female. Turning an object of sport into a work of adornment and storytelling. It also reminded me of when I used to play by myself. I was really good when I was younger. It felt like a happy memory.
Bold hairstyles are a big thing in football. 
Yes, I love how creative they are with it, even if it’s as simple as getting highlights. And it’s all types of people. There are the Black players, the white players, the Asian players. They are still not fully seen as equals, but everyone has their own thing going on. The bold hairstyles are a way to embrace who they are. It’s kind of a bubble in which other rules apply. Because in football, highlights are seen as masculine, but in everyday life, they are seen as feminine. It’s absurd. In a way, this different approach to masculinity is super interesting.
Do you have a player in mind that you would love to collaborate with?
You know what, Saka. Just because I love Saka. He plays for Arsenal. And I haven’t seen him do anything cool. I wouldn’t do anything drastic; I would probably just play around with colour or something and keep his classic style of hair. Or I would give him a buzz cut and do something fun with that because I’ve never seen him with super short hair. That would be quite cool.
What’s the difference for you, working with human hair and synthetic hair?
I mean, I obviously prefer hair on the head. It’s more ideal to work with because you can use high heat, and you can manipulate human hair more, but it definitely depends on the shoot and on the budget for editorials and the requirements. In the end, I like to work with both, because it’s not necessarily a bad thing to use synthetic hair. A lot of people use it for their wigs because it’s a cheaper way to change their hair. Also, with synthetic hair you can get really interesting colours. I don’t really have to play around with dyes. I can layer them and, in a way, create my own patterns. So yeah, I often mix both together even.
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Have you ever thought about using body hair for your work?
I’ve not necessarily thought about using it in my work, but I want to embrace it and not hide it. I want to be able to give it visibility in my work. If a model is, for example, wearing a piece of my work, and they’ve got hairy arms or legs, I’m not going to be like, ‘Oh, can you photoshop that out?’ Because that’s who they are.
What do you think about the way society perceives female body hair?
As a teenager, I was never really interested in shaving or plucking eyebrows. I’m not interested in that now. When it comes to how you’re being perceived by men, the way they see it and the way they talk about it, I think it’s quite immature if they expect a woman to be clean-shaven all the time. Because why are they not? If they expect a woman to be clean-shaven, they should groom themselves too. So, I think the expectation of women to not have hairy legs or armpits is a construct of society. But it’s interesting, because I personally never grew up thinking body hair is something ugly and inappropriate. I remember my mum; my mum is the most elegant person ever. She is always dressed super nice—but when it comes to body hair, she’d lift her dress up, and she’d have really hairy legs. I always thought it was quite cool that she is like that.
What is something you would never do with hair, and why?
I would never treat it carelessly. Hair deserves respect at all times. Because it’s an intimate material. It holds energy, so I handle it with intention; I’m careful with it, and I don’t waste. When I create pieces, whether it’s for a shoot, a hair sculpture or a wig, I’m not going to discard the leftovers. I will find a way to repurpose it.
What’s the smallest scrap you’ve turned into something meaningful?
In my old house, I basically had a bag of scraps of hair that were left over from shoots. They were all tiny little bits that I thought I could use again one day. So basically, during lockdown, I made really small keyrings of my friends’ initials and gave them to them. It was a way of connecting with people when people had to isolate themselves.
What’s one story about hair that you feel responsible for continuing or rewriting?
Um, I would say the story behind Black hair needing to be fixed. I’m trying to continuously rewrite that. Basically, I want to show it as a sculpture, as intellectual, as alive. My work is about embracing texture and turning it into objects. I kind of want to reclaim the idea that Black hair is difficult. Black hair is untidy. Black hair needs to be tamed. No, I want to celebrate it as it is. It’s not to say that I don’t think people should do their edges. I’m just questioning why it is that we have to tame it all the time.
If you had a time machine, which historical figure would you love to style, and how would you transform their hair?
I think I would choose Rosa Parks, because she’s a beautiful woman with a beautiful head of hair. What I would do is I would work with her natural state, maybe embrace her Afro and embellish it with diamonds. That’s what she deserves.
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